Ricket (Star Watch Book 2)

by Mark Wayne McGinnis

  The ship suddenly became quiet. No more distant weapons’ fire could be heard. Traveler, with two other rhinos in close pursuit, entered the bridge.

  “Are any still alive?” Ricket asked.

  “Four,” Traveler said. “Tied up and left below.”

  Ricket nodded and gave quiet thanks that even those few had survived.

  The two other rhinos stepped past Traveler and grabbed ahold of one of the dead rhino-warriors—one taking his feet, the other taking him under the arms. Traveler knelt down and slid his arms beneath the second one. He straightened his legs, and lifted up his fallen comrade into his arms.

  Ricket said, “The MicroVault portal should still be open. Thank you, Traveler.” Without further words, Traveler, followed by the other rhino-warriors, was gone.

  “Why not spend some time in a MediPod, Norwell?” Ricket asked.

  Norwell shook his head. “What will happen to me?”

  Granger interjected, “His loyalties will always be with the Caldurians. He can never be trusted.”

  Ricket shook his head. “He is old … he is—”

  Granger raised a weaponized battle-suit wrist and shot Norwell in the heart.

  Stunned, Ricket went to Norwell’s side and checked for a pulse. He looked up at Granger. “Why, Granger?”

  “Whereas I didn’t know Hobel, other than that he was one of hundreds within my clone group, I did know Norwell. Quite well, actually.”

  Ricket waited for him to continue, part of him wondering if he would be next, also shot in the heart.

  “With one exception, Norwell was the most intelligent being I’ve ever met.” Granger let the implications of that set in. “But he was also the architect of systematic genocide. His technological breakthroughs were a means to an end.”

  “What end?”

  “The end of the Caldurian originals. Sure, the progressives left this universe, for an alternate multiverse realm, years ago. Something, as you know, the originals did not go along with. They wanted to stay here. This is their home and they wanted to peacefully live out their existence here among their own kind. What you didn’t know was that the progressives, although they stayed away from here themselves, sent back ten Mechnoids into this … our … multiverse realm.”

  “I don’t know anything about what or who they are,” Ricket said, getting to his feet.

  “They are the result of years and years of genetic cross-breeding.”

  “Cross-breeding? Of what?” Ricket asked.

  Granger’s eyes fell on Norwell’s remains. “That was Norwell’s pet project: The cross-breeding of one of the universe’s most wretched, ungodly, creatures, with the most highly-advanced droid technologies. Technology, and a creature hybrid, capable of destroying thousands, perhaps millions, of lives: self-sufficient, self-motivating, and totally unstoppable. Capable of traveling vast distances across space, Mechnoids are completely invisible. Their programmed mission is to track down originals’ Crystal Cities. Once found, they land and literally devour the populace.”

  “That’s horrible. Unimaginable.” Ricket looked at Norwell’s body. “Is that why you left?”

  “Partially. Mostly, I suppose.”

  Ricket looked up and out through the surrounding wrap-around display at the open space beyond. “I have to hope that they did not bring any of those creatures along with them here. What did you call it … a Mechnoid?”

  Chapter 38

  High Orbit Over Alurian, Gracow CD1 System

  Quantum Lark, Deck 23 Main Corridor

  __________________________

  Jason yelled into the open channel, “Billy … Rizzo, get your teams up here!”

  Even as the rest of Jason’s Sharks on Deck 23 rejoined his group, they were being forced backward. He watched in astonishment as fifty or more multi-guns, along with his and Boomer’s enhancement shields, fired at the steadily approaching beast.

  The thing twice momentarily lost its cloaking ability so twice Jason saw exactly what it was they were up against. It was white—perfectly white, and also possessed a bizarre combination of both mechanical and organic aspects. It had six, multi-jointed, spider-like legs—each capable of altering its position, where it joined with its main body. The legs were in constant motion, never idle, which was more than a little disconcerting. The main body reminded Jason of a sickening, bloated tick. He watched as it grew and shrunk width-wise, while also expanding and contracting lengthwise—all at different rates of speed. Currently about the size of a standard city bus—Jason, not now focusing on its disconcerting legs, or its organic, shape-shifting central body, stared in amazement at the thing’s heads. There were three. Like its main body, the heads were also of organic origin, while its three long extendable necks were mechanical. And like its six legs, its three necks were not locked on to any particular point on the main body—so its necks and heads were in constant movement.

  Billy’s team of Sharks began to appear on the other side of the beast. Five Caldurians were sent flying into side bulkheads as more and more Sharks phase-shifted into position, right on top of them.

  “What the hell is that thing?” Billy yelled into the open channel.

  Before Jason could answer, two of Billy’s men charged forward, firing their multi-guns—attempting to bring near point-blank fire into the thing’s belly.

  Two of the creature’s heads swung around on their extendable necks and, at exactly the same time, both heads grew—expanding to the size of small Volkswagens. Jaws opened wide and both Sharks disappeared into the beast’s dual gaping mouths. Almost as rapidly as they’d first expanded, the heads lifted up and began to shrink down. The segmented necks expanded outward to compensate for the not-yet-swallowed soldiers. As the Sharks were pushed along, down the thing’s gullet, some kind of auto-muscular reaction was ongoing. Jason could hear continual screaming over the open channel. Within seconds, both Sharks were totally devoured. At that exact point, Jason realized the creature’s bulbous main body was actually somewhat translucent. He could partially see the outlines of the two Sharks—frantically trying to escape—then moving about less and less as their forms disappeared. They were quickly being digested alive.

  Rizzo’s Sharks appeared, joining in the fight, some phase-shifted in behind Jason’s team, and others behind Billy’s. The beast was becoming more and more aggressive, beginning to pluck soldiers, one after another, off their feet, then swallowing them whole at an astounding rate. Their combined, tremendous amount of plasma fire didn’t seem to show much result.

  “Rizzo … Billy … Enhancement shields seem to have more of an effect,” Jason said, as Boomer moved precariously close to the beast. “Get back, Boomer. Now!” he yelled, not wanting her anywhere close to those constantly moving, biting heads.

  Boomer did as told for all of several seconds, then began edging closer again. She was now firing off a constant flow of reddish-violet distortion waves into the beast’s belly. Jason moved closer to her and concentrated his own distortion waves on the exact same spot.

  Something was happening. Their combined distortion waves were altering the thing’s belly, turning it to an ugly brownish color. Jason and Boomer exchanged quick glances.

  Billy suddenly phase-shifted directly to Jason’s left, while Rizzo flashed into view on Boomer’s right. Then all four, their enhancement shields held high up in front of their chests, concentrated combined distortion waves at the same dark brown spot, now increasing in size and color.

  The beast’s three heads solely focused on the four attackers holding on to enhancement shields. Each time an open-mouthed head began to descend down toward any of them, plasma fire from the Sharks located behind it increased—forcing it to pull away, dodging and weaving like a boxer in a ring.

  It was clearly apparent the thing was in agony. Why doesn’t it just phase-shift away? Jason wondered. It had obviously been created using highly advanced Caldurian technology. What the hell is it waiting for?

  As they continued their un
relenting attack, Jason saw something splatter high into the air and land on the deck, not far from their feet. Steam or smoke, or a combination of both, rose into the air.

  “Look, we made a hole in it!” Boomer exclaimed. “See … there’s an open tear and stuff’s coming out.”

  She was right. There was now a clear-cut rift in the beast’s belly and yellowish-brown gunk was seeping out—stomach acid.

  “That shit’s burning right through the deck,” Billy said.

  “Hey! Boomer, get back! I’m not going to tell you again!” Jason barked.

  She moved back, just as a slop of something landed where her feet had been. It was a partially digested arm, most of a battle suit sleeve eaten away.

  “Ywey! That’s beyond disgusting!” she said.

  The half-mechanical, half-organic beast became totally preoccupied with its own ever-expanding-in-size wound. Like a wounded animal, its three heads kept trying to get close enough, their long tongues extended, to lick its torn open carcass.

  Now Jason knew why it hadn’t phase-shifted away: It was overwhelmed—so completely thrown into survival mode it could think of nothing more than staying alive for another minute, one more second. Jason was fairly certain the thing had never fought for its life before. It was taken completely and utterly by surprise by the effects of the distortion waves on its body.

  The rest of the thirty-five Sharks who’d been taking part in Boomer’s ongoing Kahill Callan classes now joined them; holding their enhancement shields up high, they pressed to the front ranks, moving through and past those using their multi-gun weapons. Soon Sharks on both sides of the corridor were using their enhancement shields exclusively.

  Two of the beast’s heads suddenly dropped, hanging lifelessly down to the deck. Only two of the mechanical legs seemed to have any movement left in them, and all they could manage to do was drag their open, seeping, carcass a few feet in any one direction. More steam wafted into the air as the singular live head lazily drifted back and forth sideways, as if floating; then it, too, abruptly fell forward, lifeless, onto itself.

  Everyone stopped firing. Visibility had become nearly impossible, due to the ever-rising caustic steam. Jason swiped at his visor with a gloved hand—only smearing it worse. He wondered how soon before this stuff ate its way all the way through his suit.

  “Boomer, I want you to get back. All the way back, near Medical.”

  “Why? It’s dead.”

  “Do it. And I want you out of that suit as quickly as possible. Go now!” Jason heard her protesting again before she phase-shifted away.

  Billy and Rizzo took tentative steps closer to the thing’s carcass. Jason reached a hand out to hold Billy back, when suddenly something creaked and shuddered in front of them. In a swoosh, the deck beneath the beast disintegrated.

  “Holy shit!” Billy said, just as startled as the rest of them.

  “Get back … away from the opening,” Jason ordered. More steam rose up from the now-open thirty-foot-wide void between them and the officers’ quarters on the other side.

  Orion was at his side. “That thing’s already fallen through five decks and there’s no sign it’ll stop falling through more decks.”

  “Let it,” Rizzo said. “I’d be happy to see that thing floating off in open space just as soon as possible.”

  “How many did we lose, Gunny?”

  “Sixty-seven Sharks. Five Caldurians got caught in the crossfire.”

  Jason finally looked across the open deck before him, and caught sight of a grouping of light blue battle suits, standing on the far side of the void.

  “I’m on it, Cap,” Billy said, phase-shifting right into the midst of them.

  “Rizzo and Gunny, you’re with me.” Jason then phase-shifted them into the corridor, directly in front of the entrance to the bridge.

  Chapter 39

  High Orbit Over Alurian, Gracow CD1 System

  Quantum Lark, Bridge

  __________________________

  Jason, Rizzo and Orion stormed onto the Quantum Lark’s bridge, their weapons held high. Every station was manned by a Caldurian bridge crewmember and there was an armed security detail, outfitted in their light blue battle suits, standing at the ready. They stood between the entrance and the three, centrally located, command chairs. Omni Stanton was visible, sitting in the most forward seat.

  Jason, annoyed at his continued blurry vision, raised his visor. He lifted his enhancement shield a little and said, “All of you … drop your weapons.”

  Two of the armed Caldurians turned back toward the Omni, as if looking for guidance. The other four guards held their ground, one even raising his multi-gun toward Jason’s now-exposed face. Omni Stanton had yet to swivel his chair around. Apparently, he didn’t want to deal with the fact he was about to lose command of his vessel.

  Jason gave Rizzo a subtle nod. Using a sweeping motion, Rizzo engaged his enhancement shield, and, like being hit by a colossal ocean wave, the six Caldurians were sent flying—three to the right and three to the left. All hit the deck hard, and none got back up. It was an impressive move. He’d have to ask Rizzo later how he did it.

  Jason stared at the back of the Omni’s head. Even in light of the injury, if not death, of his security detail, the captain still faced forward. Is this guy for real?

  Jason took three long strides forward and, using the sole of his right boot, kicked the corner of the Omni’s chair—abruptly spinning him around to face him. Why hadn’t he noticed it before? Jason knew he’d wonder about it for days to come. It certainly seemed obvious now: Captain—or Omni—Stanton was not Caldurian. He was human.

  Orion was at Jason’s side, her virtual notebook projected out in front of her. “He’s definitely human, Cap.”

  “Of course I’m human,” the man said, getting to his feet. Tall and broad-shouldered, he looked to be middle-aged, with salt and pepper gray hair and a mostly gray goatee.

  “Before we get into that, which I’m more than a little intrigued to hear about, I must formally inform you that I’m taking command of your ship. You can either resist, and face the consequences, or work with me to make this an amiable transition. Up to you.”

  Stanton’s eyes bore into Jason with burning hatred. Eventually, he turned and glanced around the bridge at the many nervous-looking faces of his, waiting-for-orders, bridge crew. When he looked back at Jason there was slow resignation. “The ship is yours. How you defeated that … that demonic, god-forsaken, Mechnoid-thing out there, well, it’s nothing short of a miracle. Hell, maybe you deserve the damn ship.”

  Jason raised a brow. Wasn’t that thing a Caldurian creation?

  “Don’t get me wrong,” Stanton continued. “I like the Caldurians. I am, for all intent and purpose, one of them … I’m accepted by them … but that doesn’t mean I like everything they do … or all of their methods. The Mechnoids’ presence here comes from the highest levels of Caldurian command and they are not here solely to protect us.”

  Jason didn’t say anything to that. “Inform the AI of the change of command and set the new protocols.”

  Stanton hesitated, let out a long breath, and walked over to the closest console. It took him no more than two minutes to do as ordered. “The AI is now cleared for new command parameters,” he said.

  Orion shooed a Caldurian crewmember out of the tactical seat and went to work at the station. That took her another sixty seconds. “We have full command of the Quantum Lark, Cap.”

  Jason said, “Get me a logistical feed of the local surrounding space, Gunny.”

  The wrap-around display adjusted, the new logistical feed now positioned at the front. As Omni Stanton moved to sit back down in the command chair, Jason grabbed him by the nape of his collar and physically manhandled him up and over into Rizzo’s waiting grasp.

  Jason sat down in the command chair and assessed the situation. Eleven Master Class vessels, identical to the Quantum Lark, were now in relatively close proximity. “Gunny, what’s
the status of those ships?”

  “We’re being targeted. They’re all at battle stations with weapons charged.”

  “Eleven to two odds—if we figure in the Assailant. That’s still not good … not at all,” Jason said.

  The display changed and two more icons appeared.

  Gunny said, “Eleven to four, Cap. Both the Minian and the SpaceRunner have phase-shifted into local space.”

  Jason’s heart leapt at the sight of the Minian. “Hey, it’s getting better.”

  One more vessel appeared.

  “Cap … incoming hail from Ricket. He has control of the Parcical.”

  “Eleven to five. Now things are getting interesting.” Jason turned toward Stanton. “Give the command for those eleven ship captains to stand down.”

  Stanton shook his head. “Only the fleet Omni can make that happen.”

  “I thought you were the fleet Omni?”

  “I simply direct the day-to-day military consignments. Only Omni Hobel has that level of command. Think of his rank as more like fleet admiral.”

  Jason pursed his lips and, to move things along, hailed Ricket directly.

  “Go for Ricket.”

  “Ricket … I want Omni Hobel, in whatever condition he’s in, phase-shifted to the coordinates Gunny is about to provide you.”

  “Yes, Captain, but—”

  Jason cut the connection. He turned back to Orion: “Give Ricket the coordinates to that open space, at the front of the bridge.”

  “Aye, Cap.”

  Billy entered the bridge and looked around. Eventually, his eyes fell on Stanton.

  Jason shrugged. “I’m still waiting to hear what his story is. What’s the status of the …” Jason queried Stanton, “What is that thing called?”

  “A Mechnoid.”

  “Status of the Mechnoid?” Jason asked Billy.

  “The thing finally came to a stop on Deck 3. It left quite a mess; won’t be an easy clean up.”